


Calling On Angels

by probablynotadalek



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Superwholock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablynotadalek/pseuds/probablynotadalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After receiving a mysterious message from an unknown person, hunters, time travelers, and detectives are thrown into an adventure across universes to save the sanity of their unknown enemy.  They have no idea what they are getting into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Impossible Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get the record straight. Or at least firmly crooked.  
> -Sherlock: Middle of series two  
> -Doctor Who: Between Name and Day of the Doctor  
> -Supernatural: Season five-ish maybe.  
> Be prepared for spoilers from these points.  
> Some timeiness might work it's way in, I don't know. Don't fool yourself into thinking I run this.

The room was dark, lit only by the white light from the computer. A lone figure sat clicking silently at the keyboard.  


'Winchester' the words appeared on the screen, followed by pairs of seemingly random numbers.  


'Holmes' letters in a similar randomness.  


And finally 'Doctor' before symbols and letters from foreign languages.  


'Hello, heroes. Solve your puzzles. No matter how smart you think you are you cannot solve the others. Good luck. You'll need it.'  


Piercing blue eyes scanned their work. Thin lips slid into a smile.  


A few clicks and it was done.  


The impossible message had been sent.

~~~~~

Bing! The alarm on Sherlock's phone let him know he had a message, followed by a dull buzzing that shook the table. A test tube that was to close to the edge rolled off, crashing on the floor. It was obviously unimportant, as the detective did nothing, letting a purple-ish liquid seep into the carpet.  


"You going to get that?" John said after a moments silence.  


"No. I'm working." He didn't look up from the microscope.  


John sighed as he stood up. He found his friends phone under a petri dish, the message still flashing.  


"Sherlock."  


"I cannot be bothered with whatever trivial matter my brother wants me to deal with."  


"You will want to see this.."  


"What is it? What could possibly be more important than this case?" Sherlock stopped as he read what John had handed him. A smirk fell over his face, the kind he only got when he found a puzzle worth solving.

~~~~~

"You find anything on this spirit Sammy?"  


Sam looked up from his computer. "You know how many obits I have had to go through? And there is nothing on this.. Whatever it is.. In dads journal."  


"So.."  


"So be patient."  


"C'mon." Dean complained. Just because the case wasn't going there way didn't mean Sammy had to bitch about everything. It's not like it was the end of the world. Except that the apocalypse was literally upon them and... he banished the thought as he stood up. "Time for some good old fashioned leg wor-"  


A sound came from Sam's computer. "You've got mail."  


"What is that?"  


"An email."  


"Well, ya, but how?"  


"I dunno." The brothers watched the screen as the message that couldn't possibly be there was opened.  


"What the hell?"

~~~~~

The Doctor and Clara stumbled into the TARDIS, coughing, clothes smoking.  


"Note to self. Ansitoria, not a good place for vacation." He propped himself up on the door as he shut it.  


"And what part of 'planet made entirely of active volcanoes' did you think meant resort, Doctor?"  


"Well-" before he could give a terrible explanation, the room filled with a light trill.  


"What is that?"  


"If I didn't know any better I'd say you had a text."  


"No no that's impossible the TARDIS can't get texts!" He charged toward the center of the ship.  


The Doctor watched in amazement as words and numbers and symbols appeared on the screen in front of him.  


He smiled as his sexy started translating the code.

~~~~~

"How on Earth did you do that?"  


"Simple, basic code breaking, just need a brain like mine that's all, child's play really. No it's the rest of it that interests me."  


"Fifteen twenty, Scotland Yard, look for the Blue Box, bring John."  


"Yes John I know I solved it! Be outside Scotland Yard at 15:20 tomorrow and look for the mysterious blue box. But what does the rest of it say!?"  


"Sherlock, it says right here that you can't solve the rest of it."  


"Of course I can John, every code can be broken, and I will break the rest!"  


He turned back to the pages of numbers that had taken the place of case files and scientific equipment on his desk.

~~~~~

"15, 36"  


Sam flipped to page 15 in his fathers journal and painstakingly counted out 36 words. "Box. Next?"  


"That's it." Dean leaned back in his chair.  


"6:07 pm, highway 56, stop at the blue box."  


"What about the rest of it? Can we solve the rest of the code?"  


"Well you can try, but I'm gonna trust this guy and not waste any brain power. Goodnight Sammy." He plopped down onto the bed, closing his eyes.  


"Goodnight Dean." He said monotonously as he moved to the space he had been occupying only a moment earlier.  


"Let's see... 'Holmes."

~~~~~

"Here we go! Tell me sexy what does it say?"  


"What is it Doctor?" Clara came over as her friend read the message, her dark hair still wet, smelling like a strange a mix of strawberry shampoo and the ash she couldn't get out.  


"Coordinates, instructions, but how? That's never been done before. It's not possible."  


"I'm not possible remember."  


"You used to be. But this.. This is trans-universe transport," he ducked underneath the control board "and even I didn't know there was a button there."  


"Aren't you going to try it out?"  


"Not quite yet. This is going to require a lot of power. An hour or so absorbing an exploding star should do it."  


"What do we do until then."  


"We try to solve the remaining code."

~~~~~

John checked his watch again. 15:19. He shivered in the cold. Any second now, but where was the blue box? Could it only be seen at 15:20 like some sort of exotic flower?  


His friend was still bent over the code, sitting on the ground surrounded by papers filled with numbers and words John couldn't make out. He hadn't managed to solve any of it, as the sender had predicted.  


'Vwoop vwoop' a sound John had never heard before filled the area and a strong wind sent Sherlock's papers flying. John wondered how no one else could be noticing this as a blue police box pulsed into existence.  


"I suppose that's the box then."  


Sherlock grunted a reply, searching the outside of the phone box for some explanation as to what he had just witnessed. He was nearly taken out as the door shot open.  


"What's this then, Scotland Yard?" Said a young man as he emerged from the box. He noticed Sherlock and John gaping at him, his box, and his friend, a girl who looked a little younger than him. "Sorry, how very rude of me," he held out a hand. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara."  


Sherlock quickly regained his composure. "The Doctor from the message I'm sure. Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend Doctor John Watson."  


"No way." Clara seemed amazed for some reason. "The Sherlock Holmes? But he's just a-"  


"Apparently not." the Doctor cut her off.  


A kind of tense silence fell over the group as each tried to study the other.  


John cleared his throat. "Well, um, are we all supposed to fit in the box?"  


"Oh yes of course come on inside."  


John followed warily as the Doctor and Clara re-entered the box.  


"It's.."  


"Bigger on the inside, yes."  


"It's impossible." Sherlock said as he recovered. "How can it defy dimensional rules like this? It must be some sort of illusion," John stopped paying attention as he continued his rant, pacing about the room.  


"So it's some sort of futuristic space ship"  


"Time machine, actually" the Doctor corrected.  


"Time machine then, and why did you come here?"  


"The message, I guess you got it too. Now we have two more stops to make."

~~~~~

"Why are we doing this again?"  


"Dean you know why, the message told us to be driving down this road at 6:07."  


"And we are listening to this whoever he is because? We have got a killer to catch."  


"Based on it's patterns, it won't be killing again until next month. Besides, we weren't getting very far."  


"We would've gotten there eventually. What time again?"  


"Be patient for once in your life. It's 6:06. One more minute. Keep your eyes peeled for a blue box."  


"Blue box. Blue box." Dean searched the edges of the road.  


"Dean look out!" Sam yelled from the passenger side.  


Dean swerved to avoid the blue box which had appeared in front of them, narrowly missing the edge of both the box and the road.  


"This must be the one." Sam stated over Deans cursing. He opened the door of the Impala to get a closer look. He stepped up to it, his gun ready in case something evil popped out at him. Dean followed soon after and seemed ready to shoot whatever almost made him crash his baby.  


Sam nearly blew the head off the first person who stepped out of the box, a young man in a tweed jacket and bow tie. He was followed by a girl only a bit younger than him, and dressed like she was from the 21st century.  


"So it's you two then." The man said as he noticed the two of them. "Got the message, right? I'm the Doctor, this is Clara, come inside and Ill introduce you to the other two." He was frustrated and annoyed with something, Sam couldn't tell what.  


Sam thought his brother would make some comment about the size of the box and the fact that the two of them had been inside it, but he only said "The doctor? Doctor who?"  


Something clicked in Sam's brain. An old TV show he watched sometimes when his dad was away hunting. A time traveler in a Blue Police Box. And.. Nothing else.  


"Just the Doctor" replied the man. "Coming?"  


"In that thing? With five other people? Are you insane?"  


"No, Dean I think we can trust him." Something about this guy..  


Sam grabbed the bag he had filled with a couple of essential items-his dads journal, salt, his laptop, weapons of various sizes and enough silver bullets to stop an army of werewolves.  


"What about my car?" Dean whined as Sam ducked through the doors.  


He settled for parking it on the side of the road and calling Bobby to pick it up later. He followed his brother inside.

~~~~~

The Doctor looked around the TARDIS. Sherlock Holmes-another impossible person, after he had just solved Clara-was still huddled in the corner trying to make sense of the spaceship. John Watson, to add to impossibility, had finished trying to comfort him and was now marveling at the TARDIS. And this new guy-weren't there two?- who were they? Superheroes, Starfleet, Imperial Forces? No that didn't make any sense..  


"I'm Sam, by the way, and my brother Dean should be coming any second now." The tallest one said, offering a hand to the doctor. So there was another.  


"Nice to meet you, Sam." The doctor took his hand. "You've met Clara and I, over there's John Watson and that's Sherlock Holmes."  


"Sherlock Holmes? As in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes?"  


"Not quite. This ones from the 21st century. But essentially, yes."  


The one named Dean barged in moments later.  


"What the hell?"  


"Yes it's bigger on the inside, it's also a time machine. Is that everyone?" The Doctor was ready to move on. He wanted whatever this was to be over, mostly due to the fact that despite all his efforts, Sherlock would not come out of his calculations.  


"Last name Winchester, I'll bet." Clara started talking with Dean.  


"And you'd be right. And what's a pretty girl like you-"  


"Dean not now." His brother stopped him from flirting, thank the stars. He'd had enough of that from Jack.  


Before long, Sam gave up on his brother and started walking around the TARDIS in silence. He seemed to be taking it in, when he started talking with the Doctor.  


"So this is a time machine. But I thought we didn't need machines for time travel."  


"What? No of course you do." The Doctor wondered about these people. "What do you all do then?"  


"We are hunters." He gestured to where Dean was talking with Clara and John. "We track down and destroy all things unnatural and evil."  


"What do you mean by that?"  


"Spirits, witches, vampires, werewolves, demons, ya know, things that don't exist."  


"Quite a bit of trouble with hunting nonexistent things I'm sure."  


"Don't get me started." The Doctor didn't know what had happened to these two, but he knew that Sam meant it.

~~~~~

"So, what are we all doing here?" Dean asked.  


"I was hoping you knew." John replied.  


"I'm afraid I'm just as lost as you are." The hunter looked around, confused. "Maybe more. What is this thing?"  


"It's a TARDIS." Clara had become quite good at explaining this. "Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. A marvel of Time Lord science, bigger on the inside, it can travel anywhere in time and space. And apparently across universes."  


"And a Time Lord is.."  


"An alien. Two hearts, the ability to regenerate and change bodies in place of dying."  


"Well that's... Fun."  


"Okay." The Doctor said from across the ship, where he seemed to have previously been in a conversation with Sam, and based on his expression their job had come up. His brother walked over to him as the Doctor prepared for something at the control board. "Who is ready to get going? One last stop to make."


	2. Make New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was, however, to small for that to work, and the worlds only consulting detective landed on the metal floors of the TARDIS with a thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one's short I promise they will get longer. Probably.  
> I hope you've liked it so far!

The others braced themselves for something, so Sam grabbed onto the railing behind him.

Suddenly, as if being hit by a semi (Sam had done that once, not exactly a good time) the TARDIS lurched sideways, and continued to rock violently as the Doctor spun things and pushed buttons. Dean, who hadn't been paying attention, was struggling to grasp the rail next to Sam.

A few seconds passed like minutes before, just as suddenly as it had taken off, the ship landed with a crash.

Moments later, the group recovered and resolved to see who it was they were picking up here. The Doctor was the first out, followed by Clara and John. The other three decided to stay inside and wait for whoever would come in.

The Doctor reappeared at the door not long after he had left it. "I'm not sure, but I think this is where we are supposed to get off."

~~~~~

"Come on Sherlock you have to move!" John yelled at his friend, still curled up in a corner attempting to make sense of what he had been through.

"This is impossible. I must be dreaming. Impossible. Impossible." He continued muttering.

"I hope I'm dreaming," John said under his breath. "Okay. We are moving." He attempted to lift the man off of the ground. He was, however, to small for that to work, and the worlds only consulting detective landed on the metal floors of the TARDIS with a thud.

"Need some help with that?" The tall one, Sam was it?, towered above him.

"Yes, thank you."

Sam scooped Sherlock under one arm and easily carried him out the door after the others. John struggled to keep up on his small legs.

~~~~~

Sam hauled Sherlock Holmes, the one and only, out the door. A part of him was sure he was dreaming. How often did you get to meet a legendary (and fictional) detective and a time traveler in the same day? Then again, how often did fictional characters you barely remember end up in your dreams?

Outside was dark, wet, and poorly lit, like the inside of a cave. Dean had been smart for once and grabbed his duffel bag.

He propped the still muttering Sherlock against a grey rock wall. As far as first impressions went, this one was probably the worst.

He went to rejoin his brother and the rest if the group, who were looking down on a labyrinth of passages and doorways. It seemed to go on forever, lit up by nothing he could see, seemingly invisible torches illuminating the brown stone wall with an orange, flickering light.The ceiling rose until it was enveloped in blackness, giving the illusion of night, but the earthy smell proved that they were underground.

Someone uttered words of amazement from his right.

"You've got mail."

~~~~~

"Sherlock." John kept trying to get him to move. How could he be bothered with something as trivial as movement when there were such big puzzles to solve?

"You've got mail" a noise shot out from where the others were standing.

'File it away. Solve it later. Categorize.' He focused on where he was at. How did he get out here? Where was here?

He stood up, knocking John over in the process. A few strides and he was over by the others.

"Look who decided to join us." An American teased. Scars, fought quite a bit and had been doing so for a while. Put on a smile for others but he was damaged and it was written all over his face. Had always had a problem with authority, currently struggling against a force beyond his control. Gambling problem, drank too much, drove a lot, worked on cars...

"Dean, Sam." John whispered. "Sometimes it helps to be a normal human being."

The six huddled around a computer. Sherlock scanned the newcomers. The tall one was smart, scars like his.. Friend? Brother? Brother. Younger of the two. Did a lot of work on the computer but also his fair share of shooting. Salt or sugar on his sleeve, used a lot of it. Often around fire. Had been through a lot, probably a struggle with himself and his own abilities. Also fighting something he couldn't control, but more relaxed about it.

The tall one, Sam, sat in front of the laptop, and opened a message. He was, miraculously, receiving a signal in the cave.

It was not a normal email. It was blank.

"Where are the words?" John said at Sherlock's right.

'Thats my cue.' Black letters in a childish font appeared. Someone young. Or mentally unstable. Or both.

"That's not me." Sam said, backing away from the keyboard.

'Because it's me. Looks like you all made it. And you've gotten to know each other. Good.'

There WAS an explanation. There was no way whoever this was was watching.

'Don't look so surprised. If I could send a message across universes, don't you think it would be easy for me to be watching you?'

"Who does this guy think he is?" Dean shouted before the last word had appeared.

'I can hear you too. Be polite.'

"So what do we do then?" Clara questioned the unspoken words.

'Why are you in such a rush? Don't you want to stay and have a chat?'

"No." Said three or four voices in unison.

'Fine then, have it your way. Make it through the maze and we'll talk some more.'

"Easy enough, ill just fly the TARDIS across." The Doctor offered.

'Yes about that. No.' A few seconds passed before the box disappeared in a flash of light. 'Have fun!' The screen went black.

~~~~~

Dean was about ready to drop. Whoever this son of a bitch was, he was going to shoot them the instant they met. Already he had tumbled down a cliff, met hundreds of dead ends, run into a flaming pit of death, and switched leaders to many times to count, and all he had to show for in were a couple of bruises, a burnt jacket, and an overwhelming urge to punch something.

Basically, the maze was hell. Well not hell. Hell was less annoying and more painful. He had been there. Multiple times.

Correction: the maze was the closest thing to hell that wasn't actually hell.

Ahead, the Doctor and Sherlock were arguing (again) about which way was the safest.

"Left. Left is always good."

"Last time we followed your instinct, Doctor, we almost died." That had been the whole pit of fiery death thing. "Besides we have come this way before and left took us in a circle."

"We have not. And right smells funny. We are going left."

"That is an idiotic move and I-"

"Oh for the love of God." John barged through the two. "Stop it, we'll go straight." Dean was starting to like this guy.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Dean couldn't help but look over his shoulder as he walked. The guy who sent the message was watching them somehow and Dean didn't like it.

Behind him Sam and Clara seemed to be doing just as well as he was. Sam had had to leave his coat at the fire pit, as most of it was burnt to a crisp.

It suddenly occurred to him just how crazy this whole adventure was. They had followed the instructions of an email they couldn't get. They had hopped into a box that had appeared in the middle of a road with a strange man and a hot chick. Sherlock Holmes was with them, a fictional character from forever ago. And then, after landing in a cave, they all trusted words that appeared magically on a screen and headed into the maze of death. What was wrong with them?

He turned around just in time to avoid hitting a wall.

"See John, dead end. We are going back and going my way. There's nothing here."

"Wait." Dean noticed an indent in the wall. "There is something." He fit his hand into it and pulled.

The wall gave way, and door shaped piece slipped out. It was lighter than it should have been, being made of stone and all, but that made more sense than the rest of this crap hole of a maze. He set it down next to the newly formed opening.

The others stared at him. Some disbelief, a bit of 'that's my brother', and a pinch of 'was there always a hole there?'

"Well? Right this way." He gestured through the doorway.

~~~~~

Once through the doorway, Clara was impressed with Dean. If he had found something both the Doctor and Sherlock Holmes hadn't noticed, he must be very clever. She might have been amazed if she hadn't saved him from burning to death.

On the other side of the wall was a strait path leading to something Clara couldn't quite see. There were no more turns, no more choices, just a path.

"This is impossible."

"This is brilliant."

"This is crazy."

A slow, painful grinding came from behind her. It shook the floors. She looked back to see where Dean had just crossed through the hole and it was now sliding closed.

"No!" He grabbed on to the side of the door and tried to pull it back open. Sam joined him a moment later, but it was too late. The door kept crawling forward and shut with a thud that echoed through the silent group.

Dean muttered something, probably cursing again. He had stopped yelling profanities after the Doctor had made clear how offended he was.

"So now what?" Sam stood, towering over Clara.

"Now we walk." She said as she looked down the path with a growing sense of dread.

~~~~~

The Doctor had almost forgotten what is what like to walk everywhere. Yes he ran quite a bit but never long distance and never without his TARDIS nearby. Or at least not stolen by disembodied text.

He guessed the words had come from a Cyberman or a Dalek who had gotten creative. No one else could design a thing like this. Expect maybe the people from Demons Run. Or the Great Intelligence. Okay the sender was one of his old enemies. Definitely.

The path ahead was still longer than the one behind, and the Doctor was bored. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and tried to get a reading on the walls. Again, nothing. Whatever they were made of he had not seen it before.

This would be fun.

Despite his previous encounters with alternate universes, the Doctor was not as prepared for this as he would have hoped. Such adventures still caught him off guard. Especially when he travelled to them by order of a mysterious and currently unknown body.

He scanned the walls again. Still nothing. He walked a few more steps. Still bored. He looked around at his new companions. Still strange.

Again he scanned the walls. Nothing.

"Put that thing away or so help me I will smash it to pieces!" Dean yelled from ahead.

The Doctor carefully tucked his sonic screwdriver into his pocket. He looked around at the impossibly large cavern above them and the impossibly long path in front of them.

In the distance, he was beginning to make out a shape. It was a dome like structure with something inside of it. Something he recognized.

~~~~~

 

The Doctor nearly ran John over as he sprinted past.

"What's he so excited about?" Sam asked.

John looked in the direction he was running, and could see the structure ahead. He noticed something underneath it, something rectangular and blue.

"It's the TARDIS!" He screamed and everyone ran with the Doctor, excited to be out of the maze and on to... Well, whatever came next John supposed.

Over the next few minutes, the excited sprinting turned into running which turned into a jog and then a brisk walk. John arrived at the time machine a few seconds behind the rest of the group. The Doctor was already at the box, fumbling for his key, muttering about his baby.

He managed to fit the key in the lock after dropping it twice and somehow missing the keyhole a few times. The doors swung open and the group tumbled in.

It took only a few seconds for the group to collapse in a heap on the floor, panting, dirty and exhausted.

"You've got mail."

A groan echoed throughout the six. No one moved.

"You've got mail."

Still no one moved.

"You've got mail."

Sam started to reach for the computer, which was still in the bag slung over his shoulder. He gave up after a few seconds.

"I said.. YOU'VE GOT MAIL."

The same robotic voice boomed from the bag, which was a lot more frightening than you might believe.

"Give it to me." Clara gave in. Sam threw her the bag, almost taking her head off. She tore it open and pulled out the computer. As tired as they were, her companion sat up as she opened it on the ground.

'Took you long enough. Can't you people hear?'

No one responded.

'Wow. Tough crowd. But, no time to dwell on that. Did you like my maze?'

If John knew where to stare, he would have given the bastard a glare of death. But instead he shouted, no! Just a little after the rest.

'Thought as much. The last few never made it out. Probably still-'

"You mean you've killed people in this stupid maze?" The Doctor yelled.

'Don't interrupt. And I wouldn't say killed... More like lost.'

"And what happens when you lose them?" Dean asked sternly,

'Well, see, they sort of stop existing. It's better than death. Less painful and unknown.'

"So you delete people from the universe?" The Doctor was reminded of Rory and the cracks in time.

'The Multi-verse. But yes.'

"But you can't just do that!" Clara yelled.

The text payed no attention to her. 'Back to what I was saying. I suggest you get some sleep. We've got a big day ahead of us!'

"What do you mean, 'a big day?'"

'You'll just have to wait and see.'

The screen went black again.

A few moments passed.

"So, Doctor. Got any beds in this place?"


	3. But Keep the Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well you try creating an entire planet from your living room. And Sammy dear, put more feeling into it."

The Doctor did, in fact, have a room filled with beds. Four bunk beds lined the walls of the gray-blue room. But Sherlock wouldn't be doing much sleeping.

John tried to prompt him into the bunk below where he had chosen, but he knew there were problems to solve, no matter how tired he was.

The others gave half-hearted attempts to get him to go to sleep before warm blankets and bad dreams consumed them. He heard the shorter American (Derrick? Damian?) mutter something from the bed next to his brother, like a prayer. Odd behavior from a man who obviously didn't believe in a higher power.

After everyone was settled in, the Doctor went back to the console room. Apparently aliens far away planets who probably existed didn't need sleep either.

Sherlock decided it was best to lay on the bed offered to him, and retreat to his mind palace. He organized his new facts into groups by puzzle: the Doctor and his TARDIS, these strange hunters, and, most importantly, the mysterious text and it's challenges. Minutes turned to hours as he categorized, deciding what was true, what couldn't be true (which was a very small pile at this point), and what was probably not true.

The Americans made the most sense. Everything about them fit the monster Killer category, which was not surprising as that category had been built around them. But everything the say checked out.

The Doctor didn't fit anywhere, at least not anywhere Sherlock knew of. So he fit into the alien from outer space category he had to create alongside the monster hunters. His companion, Claire, seemed slightly more interesting than frightfully boring, so she fit the adventurer type.

The case- no, case didn't seem like quite the right word, this was bigger- was much more puzzling.

The message he (if the sender was a he) had sent said a lot. He was bored, had a lot of power and extra time, and probably in some sort of distress. Not in either of their universes, or all of this testing would have been done in one of them. And this was obviously some sort of test. They had just passed phase one and barely survived. He began to wonder what phase two would bring. 

~~~~~

 

Sherlock was still on the bed, unmoving, long after everyone else had woken up, but every time he asked, John would assure Sam that this was completely normal behavior for a psychotic genius. Eventually he stopped worrying.

Sam was the third out, after the Doctor, who probably hadn't slept, and Clara. He heard them whispering by the controls, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Anything from our friend?" He asked as he met the two in the center.

Their looks told him everything: no, and thank God.

"So." Sam looked around at the various buttons, dials, and thingy-ma-jigs that littered the TARDIS console. "How does this thing work?"

The Doctor's face lit up, and he dived into a detailed instruction about exactly how the ship worked and how to fly it. Sam tried to keep up and learn a few things. After all, it wasn't every day you were taught how to pilot a time machine.

By the time Dean joined them, Sam was attempting to fly it himself. The sender had locked the TARDIS in a 'timey-wimey stasis loop', whatever that meant, so he ran around pressing buttons while the Doctor watched to guess where he landed.

"Switzerland-ish, 234 BC. Not bad."

"I was aiming for 1987."

"I've missed by more. Once, when I was trying to get Clara home, we ended up on Tyrus 1000 years before she was born."

"Impressive." He wished he knew where Tyrus was.

The Doctor seemed ready for more, but Sam was done. His head was already filled with facts he would probably never use, and it's not like they were really going anywhere. He went over to talk with Dean as John and Sherlock entered the room.

"Have you tried calling Cas?"

"No, Sammy, I hadn't thought of that." His voice was heavy with an annoyed sarcasm.

"Sorry, just wondering." He wondered what else he could try. "Maybe you should try again."

~~~~~

Hours had passed. Seven times. Seven! Dean decided that, if Castiel ever did show up, he would have to.. Something. But right then, he was just fed up with all of the crap he was surrounded with. And to top it off, Cas was nowhere to be found.

'Tick tock tick tock'

There was, of course, no clock, being on a time machine and all, and he was surrounded by chattering people and would not have heard anything, but Dean felt it made more sense to imagine ticking than crickets. He decided to try again. He closed his eyes.

"Castiel you feathery son of a bitch if you can hear me get your angelic ass here now."

"Dean?" John asked. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh. No one."

"I take offense to that comment." Said someone next to them.

"Cas where have you been. I have been calling out for days."

"We are in the middle of a war Dean." Dean stared at his friend, who sighed and continued. "You were difficult to track down. What is this place?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He looked around at the people gaping at his friend in disbelief. Not surprising as he had just appeared. "Cas, meet Clara, John, Sherlock, and the Doctor. Everyone, this is Cas."

"Cas? That's an odd name."

~~~~~

Angels. Actual, legitimate, feathery angels. Well not feathery, exactly. In fact, Clara thought Cas looked like a completely normal human being, more average than a lot of people actually, if you ignored the loose blue tie. But if he really was "Castiel, Angel of The Lord", she wouldn't be too surprised. Not after all of this. And the Doctor looked quite human for an alien.

"Angels? You have got to be joking." John seemed to be in the opposite mind of Clara. She decided he was still searching for an explanation for the Doctor and the TARDIS showing up at Scotland Yard. She thought about how that had only been two days ago.

Sherlock seemed to be taking the appearance of the trench coated celestial being pretty well, especially compared to his reaction to the TARDIS.

"You said you were in a war, losing I'd say, based on your tone and the fact that you're looking for a super weapon." Cas tensed up more, if that was possible, in reaction to his words.

Dean shot skeptical looks at both his friend and the detective.

"So, an angel?" The Doctor, with no regard for personal space, started scanning the newcomer with his sonic screwdriver. "You aren't like the angels I know." Images of stone angels flashed in Clara's mind.

"Please stop that."

The Doctor stood back and looked at his sonic, reading calculations only he could see.

"Sorry about him. He's" Clara tried to think of the right word, but she could think of nothing to describe her friend. "Well, he's the Doctor."

Castiel looked as if he would say something, when the group went silent.

"You've got mail."

After a quick pause filled with a staring contest, John grabbed the laptop, still on the floor under the console, and flipped it open.

'An angel? Come on, that's cheating.'

"What is that?"

"The guy who brought us here only speaks through these weird ass emails."

Cas nodded silently.

'Okay, you're cute. You can stay.' The text paused a moment. 'Back to the task at hand. If you would please step away from the console.'

Everyone backed off, except the Doctor. "Whatever you are thinking of doing, whatever you might do, if you dare touch my TARDIS-" The controls came to life, electricity arcing across the metal plates. Clara watched in horror as the white lightning traveled to her doctor, running up his arms as he screamed, a bloodcurdling scream full of pain. The familiar sounds of the TARDIS traveling attempted to combat the buzz of electricity and the shouts of the Time Lord. Before Clara had time to react, the ship stopped moving, the sparks stopped pouncing, and the Doctor fell to the ground, twitching.

"Doctor!" She fell to her knees by her friend.

"Don't touch him." John quickly pulled her away. "The electricity could still hurt you."

"No," the Doctor croaked in between convulsions. "I'll. be. Fine." He strained, still moving uncontrollably.

"Doctor, concentrate the energy, remember?" Clara tried to be encouraging. The Doctor have a sort of nod, or at least she thought he did. "How about your right shoe?" He closed his eyes, but nothing happened.

"Come on Doctor, concentrate!"

"I. Can't!" He cried, still twitching.

"Then... Regenerate!"

"None. Left."

Tears streamed down Clara's face. It couldn't be normal electricity, he should have survived that. All of this, over 1000 years of adventure, just to be done in by his own TARDIS.

Someone approached from behind. It was, Clara noticed as he reached between her and John to the Doctor, the angel. What could he do? If the Doctor couldn't save himself, what could Castiel do?

But, in a miracle, Cas placed his hand on the Doctor's head. The point of contact glowed as the energy that had filled the Time Lord left him. When the angel finally removed his hand, the Doctor seemed fine. He even attempted to sit up.

"Don't do that. I'm afraid your anatomy is strange to me. I could not heal you completely."

Clara threw her arms around Cas, ignoring the awkwardness of his response and Deans silent snicker.

~~~~~

'Oops'

Oops? That was it? A man had almost died and all this cock had to say for himself was oops? Well, not quite a man, but John was still pissed.

Sam had been the first to notice the message, and had stood there, staring at it, while the others gaped at the Doctor, Castiel, and Clara. He had waited a while before clearing his throat far to loudly and pointing at the screen.

Most of the group was angry about the message, and a few were just shocked.

'Come on, I knew he wouldn't actually die! Especially now since you've got the angel.' Clara read the words out loud as they appeared, since the Doctor was propped up against the railing, still recovering. 'I'm a lot smarter than you give me credit for.'

"You're also completely insane." Dean muttered.

'Be careful what you say. Where you're headed, I make the rules.'

"Where are we headed?" Sherlock asked.

'Why don't you step outside and see?'

John came out behind Dean, Castiel, and Sherlock. What he saw was more shocking than the maze: a street. An average black street with identical single story houses all painted the same blue-gray with the same dark gray shingles. The same cement path stretched from the door to the sidewalk, alongside driveways with tiny white cars. A white mist hung thick in the air, blurring the buildings and making it impossible to see past six houses. John half expected people to come out all in unison, small children playing with balls like A Wrinkle in Time. But there were no people.

John didn't realize how on edge he was until the TARDIS door clicked shut behind him. He whipped around, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, and saw Clara holding the Doctor upright as Sam shut the door, his bag around one shoulder and the laptop balancing precariously on one arm, still open. Trying to calm down, he began to slow his breathing.

The Doctor seemed almost back to normal. Was normal the right word? He still needed Clara as a brace, leaning with one arm on her shoulder.

Sam started reading from the laptop. "So here's your challenge. What do you think?"

"I think it could do with a little more color." Clara said.

"Well you try creating an entire planet from your living room. And Sammy dear, put more feeling into it." He trailed off at the end.

"You created a planet?" The Doctor voiced their questions.

"Do my all-mighty powers still shock and amaze you? Really?" Sam tried (and failed) to put more 'feeling' into it.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sherlock wondered.

"Same thing you always do. It's a case. Have fun." John guessed there were more exclamation marks than Sam had made it seem. "And that's it, so."

Finally, a case. Something familiar. Something usual. Though, with this lot John wasn't sure it would be either.

A figure appeared through the fog as Sam returned the laptop to the tan bag on his shoulder. The man was shockingly overweight, maybe in his late fifties, dressed in blue shorts he could not pull off and a white T-shirt stained with various condiments. His heaving breaths were all John could hear as he ran closer.

"Oh, thank God you've come. Something has gone very very bad." His accent was heavily American.

The group started to follow him as he led them slowly back to where he had come from. John looked around as the landscape changed from houses to small shops. When he turned around their leader had changed- now he was a muscular 30 year old dressed in the tan of a small-town-sheriff.

"How did you-?" he asked.

"Shape-shifter." Dean readied himself for a fight before Cas grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Don't worry!" The Sheriff said in a much more natural voice than before. "I get that all the time! What you folks have to understand is that here, physics is Flexible. In fact that's our town motto! Well, it will be for a few more minutes, before the 5:00 switch. Then i think it's," he checked a clipboard that John was sure hadn't been there a moment before. "Yes, all hail the mighty balloon. It makes more sense in context. Here we are!"

He turned sharply and headed into a building with wooden walls and a sun-bleached sign whose yellow letters were faded so that ohn could barely read the words "SHERIFF'S OFFICE"


	4. Counting Losses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detectives detect, hunters hunt, and doctors get lost.

The Doctor reminded himself to never judge a book by its cover as the strange sheriff led them into a room of technology to rival Cyber Ships. Two people looked up from behind a desk as they came in, a red-headed woman dressed similarly to the sheriff and a hispanic man in a lab coat with suspiciously perfect hair.

"I haven't done any introductions yet! I'm Carter, this is Claudia, and that's my lead scientist Carlos." Each did a wave as they were introduced.

"Hello. I'm-"

"The Doctor, and his companion Clara. And there's Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson. Then Sam and Dean Winchester, hunters, and the angel Castiel." Carter recited their names quickly as if they had been drilled into him. "We've been expecting you for a while now. Carlos will show you on back."

Carlos led them though a strange hallway with mysterious multicolored lights shining behind grey doors. A few florescent lights lit the path just enough to see Carlos throw open a door and step inside. Curious, the Doctor was the first to step in, and, being nearly blinded by the sudden white light, struggled to take in his surroundings.

He found himself in an all-too-clean room with stainless steel drawers and tables. He realized it was a morgue while the rest of the group filed in behind him, Sam ducking a bit to get through the doorway. Clara came to stand near him, which he was grateful for as he still wasn't quite on his feet after the sender had almost killed him.

Carlos opened one of the drawers and pulled out a bodyand pulled back the white sheet cornering it, exposing only her head. She was a young woman with long black hair and dark skin. She looked unnaturally peaceful against the cold grey metal and the blank white sheets. "This was Marie. Perfectly healthy, 22, one day she was found dead in her apartment, obvious signs of foul play. Nothing odd about that except," he pulled back the cover a bit more and revealed her neck, an artery torn open, "she was entirely drained of blood."

Instantly his mind went searching for options. It could be a Plasmavore like the one he met with Martha on the moon, a Saturnynian like the ones from Venice, or a Haemovore, the race of humanoids brought back by Fenric before the Last Great Time War. Either way this was not a good sign.

The others seemed to be formulating their own opinions, Dean nudging Sam and making a this-ones-ours face at him and Cas, and Sherlock pulling out a collapsible magnifying glass and inspecting the wound. He murmured something and made a few grunting noises before returning it to his coat pocket.

"Well." Sherlock stood up from his hunched position. "Aren't you going to pull out the body?"

"There's no reason for that, Sherlock." Dean moved closer. "It's obviously a vamp kill. We just need to find the nest and take it out."

"Vampires? No, it's one of three species, unless there is something else I haven't heard of which is a distinct possibility."

"No you idiots. It does not take inhuman creatures to do a job a human is perfectly capable of."

~~~~~

None of them saw it, but somewhere else their new friend smiled and laughed under their breath.

~~~~~

Castiel was unsure about a lot of things. Most of them had to do with their current location. Something about it seemed off. Like it wasn't supposed to exist at all. Like it couldn't exist.

He turned his attention back to the case. Dean thought it was a vampire. That did seem likely, but Sherlock and this Doctor put up a very convincing argument.

They were standing in the victims apartment. That was another thing. This 'Marie' didn't exist. A Marie did exist, hundreds upon thousands of Maries and Marys, but not this one. But there he was, standing in a room that wasn't real, on a striped pink and green rug that was never made, watching Sherlock run around the fake room investigating a crime that couldn't have happened because the victim never existed.

That same Sherlock was bent over the glass shards, wood splinters, and blood spots all over the living room. It looked like a glass coffee table and a few vases had been broken, a few cuts of varying deepness made in the struggle. The blood was mostly in the center of the rug, her throat having been cut somewhere around there, blood spreading and spraying with no regard for the neat diagonal lines. There wasn't enough of it though-the rest had to have gone somewhere else. Which supported everyone's theories. There and been reports of strange people walking around town, pale and creepy, which supported the Doctor's and Dean's theories. And Sherlock had gone through phases of muttering then shouting then muttering again, pointing out things which no one else noticed, all pointing his conclusion.

Sherlock stood up straight, demanding all eyes on him. "So, obviously, someone broke into the apartment, and got into a fight with Marie. Someone who wanted to do more than just rob her, someone with intent to kill."

"Got that right."

"Then, after she was subdued, her attacker wanted to kill her painfully and completely, and wanted to keep her blood. So someone she knew."

"Not necessarily."

"Even psychopaths carefully choose their victims. So, the attacker pulled out a tripod of sorts and dangled Marie over a bucket as they tore open an artery, as you can see from these indentations and the lack of blood in this circle."

"So, Sherlock, whodunit?" Dean said, a sarcastic tone on the detectives name.

"Someone strong, probably male, normal enough to pass unnoticed through the building with his tools. Probably disguised as a painter."

"Security tapes then?" Sam added a comment from the corner he was standing in. He turned to Claudia, who also did not exist. "Can we see them?"

"Ya, sure. They're in the sheriffs office. We'll go see them as soon as you all are done here."

"Well I've got everything I need." Dean walked towards the door.

"Yes. Security tapes. Like a proper investigation." The Doctor almost bounced to the door. His existence was completely impossible, but somehow Cas knew he existed.

Sherlock interrupted as everyone got ready to leave. "Well you fools may think you've got everything, but I need to see her room." He turned down a hallway.

"Don't tell me we have to stay with him." Sam was ready to get out. The apartment was very small and his head brushed the ceiling every once in a while. He was probably feeling a little claustrophobic.

"Well, someone does." Claudia said.

No one spoke for a while. "I'll stay." John sighed. Cas debated flying back to the sheriffs office, but elected to walk with the group.

~~~~~

The security tapes were shotty at best and only showed that whoever came into Marie's apartment looked like a human, which everyone had already guessed. Much to Dean's disbelief, Sherlock had somehow managed to get a full psychological profile from the five minutes of fuzzy black and white footage, and was going through the vanilla foldered paper files of everyone in town.

"So, where do we want to start looking for the nest?" He asked Sam and Cas.

"I'm not so sure it's a vamp kill. I mean, it looks like it, but we've come across stranger things today." Sam countered.

"But this is simple, ordinary. Vampires are our thing. We've got this."

"What about our lives or this trip is ordinary?"

"Your brother does have a point, Dean. And the others believe their ideas to be true as much as you do."

"Not you too, Cas."

Dean knew they were just trying to be helpful, but when something was this obvious, who was he to ignore it?

The Doctor had pulled out yet another contraption, that "goes ding when there's stuff," and was waving it around as they walked down what Dean suspected was Main Street. There were stores along the sides, little mom-and-pop shops selling books and souvenirs and coffee and everything in between. But there was something wrong with the little town. Like all the neat brick buildings had been built by the same person, the windows all decorated in a similar style, and they shouldn't have been.

He might have focused longer on that, but the group was almost back to the TARDIS and they had work to do. It was a strange feeling, working with the authorities he normally deceived, but it was kind of nice. He'd managed to get a detailed map of the city and more tapes from around the town, which he was sure couldn't be strictly legal, but the cops had given them to him so what the hell?

Immediately, everyone ran off with their friends to start their specific brand of investigation. Dean didn't mind. Sam and Cas were the only other people he cared about, and they had monsters to catch. Without idiots interrupting the real work. Finding the nest and taking it out. There were seven places Sam thought could be the vamp camp, which meant seven places to watch and enter.

This was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

Sherlock was doing his regular I-know-everything-and-you-should-too routine, much to John's annoyance. He had retreated into his mind palace again, at which point John would have worked on his blog, if he'd brought his laptop, which he hadn't. It didn't help that everyone else had gone missing.

John had set his mind in exploring the TARDIS and was getting lost in the corridors. Seriously lost. He was sure he had been going in circles, so he turned around and ended up in a different hallway. Backtracking again did no good, because, even though he was sure he had taken the exact same path, he found himself standing on a spiral staircase he was sure hadn't been there before. He walked up the winding steps and wound up in another hallway. Going back down brought him to a room that resembled the control room, but wasn't quite the same.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath. "You hate me don't you!" He yelled to no one in particular.

When no one responded he searched for another door. The stairs were getting on his nerves. The one he found led to a giant closet. Some of the clothing choices were questionable, such as a question marked sweater vest, a rainbow suit, and some horrendous striped pants. John wondered why he had all of this, as most of it looked like it wouldn't fit the tiny Doctor.

He tripped over a long red unraveling scarf on his way out and suddenly had an idea. If he could use the scarf to make sure he didn't get turned around, he could at least figure out how to get back to where he'd been, and feel a little less lost. He wrapped the scarf around himself twice and tied one end to a yellow rail. It unraveled itself as he walked out the door.

This time, he had a lot more confidence in his aimless wanderings. After an hour or so of walking, he felt like he was in a place he knew and managed to make it back to the bedroom where Sherlock was still sitting at a desk in the same position John had left him in.

"Could you hand me that?" He gestured to a paper.

John threw the still long piece of knitting on the ground. "Did you even notice I'd gone?"

"Gone where?"

"Arrogant cock." John flung the paper at him. "Discover anything interesting?"

"No."

"Discover anything?"

"Just that none of this makes sense."

"How do you mean?"

"Every solution I've come up with for Marie's death has a flaw."

"So, maybe it was a vampire or an alien."

"No, I tried that even. Why go through a monitored building when there are people In the streets?"

"Hmm. Looks like you've got quite the problem on your hands. I'm going outside." He stood up again and hoped he wouldn't get lost on his way back to the control room.

~~~~~

The Doctor had no idea what he was doing, and Clara knew it. She had followed him when he followed the hunters out the door but the three boys had shooed the two of them off quickly. Now the Doctor was wandering around the town pretending to be investigating. It might have worked out if he didn't get distracted by every shiny or brightly colored thing he saw in a shop window and proceed to walk in and look at it.

That was why Clara was there, really. To keep him on track. And not just in the short-term.

"Doctor."

He looked up from the small kaleidoscope he had picked up. "Yes?"

"Searching. Aliens. Murder. Ring a bell?"

"Right, of course." After setting down the kaleidoscope he walked back out the glass door, ringing the bell above it.

"You have no idea how this works do you?"

"Not a clue. I thought I'd just figure it out as I went along."

Clara tried not to laugh. This man whose life she'd saved and who'd saved her life was such a child. It was cute. But not just adorable puppy cute. This was hard.

"So, are we just going to wander about aimlessly looking for signs or do you have an actual plan?"

"Yes. And no. Well sort of. I'm working it out." He pulled out his 'timey-wimey detector' and started scanning the sidewalk.

"Anything?"

"No."

There had to be some sort of explanation. Even the Doctor would have picked up on something by this point, so it probably wasn't aliens. She wondered if the others were having any luck. Dean had seemed pretty confident in his vampire theory and Sherlock in his maniac one, so one of had to be right. Right? They couldn't both be correct, or even less likely, all three, could they?

"So they've probably maybe got a spaceship hidden around here somewhere and it would be easier to search for that. Clara?"

"Hmm?"

"How do we find a spaceship?"

"Okay, we're going to leave this to the professionals and head back to the TARDIS now." Clara ushered him along.

"Wait, wait I've got a ding!"

~~~~~

"Sherlock!" John yelled again. How many times had it been? Being preoccupied with bigger matters, Sherlock had lost count. It had been quite a few though.

The current case was frustrating to say the least. Not much of it made sense, and was did make sense was infuriating. That made it interesting. And annoying.

"SHERLOCK!!" John yelled again, closer this time. "Haven't you heard me? Come out here!" He found himself being half-dragged to the doors of the TARDIS. "Look!" The outstretched arm was pointed to a man walking down the street outside, getting further away. It was him. Every little detail fit what Sherlock had picked up- brown hair, beard, muscular, average size, completely ordinary to anyone who didn't look closer.

"John."

"Follow him, got it."

Together they headed out after him.

~~~~~

'Three, two, one' Dean made a motion to Sam to enter. He slammed his shoulder into the wooden door, crashing it open. The familiar rush of adrenaline faded as he entered another empty room.

"Really!" Dean screamed, kicking a wall. This was the third time Sam had knocked in a door, and they were out of doors to knock in. That was it. All seven spots were a no.

"Now what do we do?" Sam asked the other two. He wondered, again, why Castiel hadn't fluttered off to who knows where already. Not that he didn't like the angel being there or anything, it just seemed a little weird that he was always hanging around them.

"I don't know!"

"I suggest grouping back with the others and asking for their-"

"Dammit Cas, not now."

"No Dean, he's got a point." Sam couldn't see why his brother was being so stubborn. Sure, it was a little weird but it wouldn't kill them to work with other people for once.

"Fine." He grumbled as he stormed out, brother and best friend close behind.

Someone was moving quickly on the sidewalk across the street. "Does that guy look suspicious to you?"

"Is that a hoodie? Dude it's like 80 degrees out here."

"So we are going to follow him, correct."

"Yeah, let's go."

Trying their best to stay hidden, which was more difficult than it should have been for Cas, they followed the suspected vampire to a warehouse. Sam was sure THAT hadn't been on the map. It would have been the first place he checked.

"I'll wait for you." Cas teleported out, probably to the warehouse. The normal human hunters had to make it in the hard way, by following their vamp around the building and through a small creaky metal door on the side. Inside was a maze of over filled shelves that they quickly got lost in. A few noises led them through to a center room. They hid on opposite corners of the doorway, preparing for a fight. Blades ready they whipped around and almost cut the Doctor's head off.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Dean lowered his weapon.

"We're tracking aliens. And you?" Clara responded as the Doctor continued waving another noisy device.

"We saw a vamp come in here."

"I think he's disappeared." Cas landed behind Sam. "I can't find him anywhere."

"Oh it's you!" Sherlock came in from another direction. "I thought you were the murderer!"

"We would have found him already if it hadn't been for these-"

"You've got mail." How had Sam's bag gotten in there? He was positive he'd left it at the TARDIS.

"So, anyone got an answer for me yet?" Sam took the liberty of reading the message again. "Come on, somebody has to have come up with something."

Sherlock, the Doctor, and Dean all competed for the chance to voice their theories. "Shhh. You're wrong. All of you. So very very wrong. Try again. And Sam, again with the feeling."

Silence. Everyone had been so busy proving their own theories that they hadn't thought about anything else. Sam started going over all the facts. Something had broken into Marie's apartment and drained her of her blood. It looked like a human. No one had been able to find it yet. It wasn't a vampire, it wasn't an alien, and it wasn't just a normal person.

Luckily for him, John was the first to speak up. "What of it's none? We're all wrong and we need to start over."

"No, not quite. You have all of the information, just think!"

"What if it was all three?" Clara was next up with an idea, more towards the group than the sender. "He said that he makes the rules so why can't this be one of them? Could it have been an alien vampire who met all of Sherlock's criteria? They got smart and figured out that the weird dangling method was the best way to get all of the blood out of a person. Then you could all be right." She turned to Sam and the computer. "That's it isn't it?"

"Good answer Clara!" Sam read. "Not the right one, of course, but I like it. Games over."

"Great, now we all get to go back to our own universes." Dean relaxed. "No more of this adventure crap."

"Not quite. I'm not done with you yet."

A sound like a plane shooting past filled the air. An earthshaking explosion sent concrete and stacks and shelves flying, sending Sam back a few feet, showering him in gray powder, and hitting him with a plastic tub. The smoke cleared to reveal the corner of the warehouse was missing. But that wasn't all. The landscape outside had changed from a quiet little town to a war zone, complete with smashed buildings, fires, planes dropping bombs, and a few armed people running for their lives.

"Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I hope you enjoy it so far! If you do, please leave a review, it would be much appreciated.


	5. War Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody's got issues.  
> (Especially me. I swear I didn't mean to- Well, you'll see soon enough.)

"Shall we play a game?" Sam said, translating the sender.

John recognized his situation. Old habits kicked back in and he could feel the creeping onset of all but forgotten effects of PTSD as he took it all in.

This time was different, and he could feel it. He couldn't just be a doctor anymore. Now he was the solider, risking his life not to save comrades but to fight. Visions of bullet wounds and burns and limbs blown off by mines began to fill his mind, taking over slowly but surely, reminding him just how much he could lose-

Sherlock's voice brought him back.

"-refuse to play a game of this nature."

"Relax, Sherly." John almost snorted, but whether it was at the name or Sam's face as he read it, he wasn't sure. "The game is simple, but I know you'll like it. You have to. It's the only way home. The rules are these: make it back to the TARDIS in one piece, and don't die, for obvious reasons."

"And if we refuse?" The Doctor asked.

Another wave of shaking and crashing came from the other side of the warehouse. A new bomb had dropped, less powerful but deadly all the same. A jagged hole had appeared in the ceiling and burning sunlight poured through.

"You get the idea. I suggest you get going. I'm getting a little bored of this world." Sam closed his laptop, signaling that the message was over.

The group stared regretfully out the crumbling wall they would inevitably have to cross through, watching a line of four WWII-style tanks roll past.

Dean was the first to move. "Let's get this over with." He marched forward and started walking over rubble, tripping over a fallen shelf, much to the amusement of his brother and Clara.

Another explosion from behind sent the rest of their unlikely team scrambling after him.

Climbing over broken everything was a tricky business, and John emerged on what was left of the sidewalk bruised and dirty. No one else was fairing much better.

John looked back and realized how little they had actually gone in the last few minutes.

How long had it been to get to the TARDIS? 15, 20 minutes? And that was before the town had been destroyed by war.

He found himself wondering which side of this battle they were on.

This trip was going to be hard. John hoped they all made it back.

~~~~~

Everywhere he looked, Castiel could see the painful evidence of war. This was the downside of humanity. The fighting.

So far, they had managed to avoid most of the fighters, dodging around the sounds of bullets.

"Wait." Dean said from ahead. "Someone's coming." He motioned for everyone to move to the wall, which took them a moment to comprehend.

As the sounds of gunfire which had become too common too quickly drew nearer, the guns the hunters had found in the bag and handed out were readied for action.

Backing out of the alley, nearly bouncing from the recoil of the shotgun in her hands was Claudia from the sherif's office, the streak of hair that had been dark blue now a fading lime green. Carter followed close behind, shooting his small firearm quickly. He reloaded, pulling a cartridge from a pocket in his brown leather jacket. Before long Carlos came into view, shooting furiously at whoever was following them. They were shooting back.

The brothers were, of course, the first to react, spinning out from the wall in sync and joining their allies. Claudia ducked into the cover of the worn red bricks as she reloaded.

"Thank God. Are we glad to see you." She peeked around the corner and shot twice before returning. "Where have you been?"

"We were looking into Marie's murder." John moved to join the small group of mock soldiers.

"How long has it been?" The Doctor asked. It seemed to Castiel that the others were unsure of what to do with their weapons. He himself felt uncomfortable with killing humans who hadn't been possessed.

"Only a month-"

Carter was cut off by a scream. It wasn't high pitched, it wasn't the screech of a plane or a close bullet. This was a scream of pain, originating deep in the body, the kind of scream heard just before a last rasping breath. It was a sound Cas recognized all too well.

"Sam!" Came Dean's reply, a similar cry, with more emotion.

That was enough. Castiel appeared next to the enemies and placed one hand on either man. The angelic light poured through them, burning their internal organs. They became heaps of flesh on the ground, eyes replaced with black, gaping holes. It was easier than he had expected. These men were not real. He hadn't really killed anyone.

He returned back to where a teary-eyed Dean was leaned over Sam's body. A blood pool was growing on the front of his brown plaid shirt. One shot, close to the heart, but far enough to be fixed without too much effort.

He bent down and sealed the wound.

The group still looked shocked. Hadn't he already healed the Doctor? This couldn't have been surprising.

"What. Was. That." Carter stared.

"Angelic powers. Pretty badass. Did you even read the pamphlet?" He said nothing in response to Claudia. "Of course not. Good job, Wings." He wasn't sure about the nickname.

"What happened in this place? We were gone for maybe ten minutes."

"We can't just stay here. Get moving, we'll walk and talk." Carlos snapped, marching forward.

"What's his problem?" Sam sat up, recovering quickly.

"The Mags, uh, executed his boyfriend." Claudia whispered.

"What? Why?"

"He was a radio announcer. Said a few things they didn't exactly like."

The air got more serious than it had been before. Castiel decided not to mention the next predicament.

His powers were wearing out. He couldn't connect to heaven.

~~~~~

The war had started like any other. A single gun was fired in a city miles away. But the tensions between the two sides, the Magrians they were fighting and the Andrites they fought with, had been building for decades. The world had been preparing for war.

The real fighting had only been going on for a month, but already the planet had been decimated by nuclear warfare.

That was a problem, and not just because of the destruction part.

How had two months passed in a matter of minutes?

This was the main question on Sherlock's mind as he walked along with the group.

After the situation had been explained and the sun started setting, a silence had fallen. The familiar gunshots faded and became less common. That was a good sign.

The taller Winchester had been doing well for someone who had recently been shot in the chest. The angel was good. That meant anyone who was hurt was quickly healed. Already, the shot in the shoulder Clara had received had been fixed and Carter's just grazed ear was healed. A piece was missing, but that was minor.

"Sherlock!" He opened his eyes, realizing he had shut them, and seeing a doorway he hadn't seen. Behind it was a soldier, a 'Mag' as the slang term went, who was crouched in a corner holding a weapon.

Time slowed. He found himself unable to move, in a rare moment of panic, noticing everything but unable to do anything about it.

John was not so immobile. He ran in between detective and soldier as the latter stood to kill. Sherlock saw the quick movements, the gun aimed at the chest, a quick thought and repositioning. He felt, not heard, the boom as a bullet tore through a knee. The man in the room fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Are you alright?" The world caught up to normal speed as John spoke.

"I'm. That was. Good." He struggled to catch up.

The man had started screaming. He would live, but not fight. John had shown mercy.

"His buddies will be here soon. We better go." Dean stepped between them and kept the group moving forward.

Sure enough, ten or fifteen soldiers rounded the corner, weapons aimed. How had they gotten there so quickly? Sherlock suspected that their headquarters was somewhere nearby. The bullets rang past, sending the team flying into another dark alley.

Quickly, Cas healed Claudia, the only one to be hurt. These shooters had terrible aim.

"They're in here!" A cry sent them running over and around old wooden crates and metal bed frames.

~~~~~

Searching for the TARDIS was considerably harder than it had been the first time around, for a number of reasons. One: the seven people who knew where the TARDIS was only knew that it was somewhere along a major street. Two: they were hopelessly lost in this transformed city. Three: they all had terrible communication skills and it took longer than expected to find out where they were. Four: the spot where everyone was sure the TARDIS had stopped was empty.

Now, Clara and the rest were wandering the rows of broken gray houses looking for any sign of where it had disappeared to. The sun had risen again, and they weren't doing too terribly after the few hours sleep they had gotten. Clara knew the Doctor and Cas had stayed up all night, not requiring sleep, and was fairly certain that Dean hadn't gone to bed either.

"Over here!" Sam cried from outside one of the houses. "I think I see something."

Sam had found tracks leading off to somewhere behind a torn down fence. If the time machine had gone anywhere, it had gone that way.

Excited to get back to the TARDIS and back home, the group followed the tracks with little regard to where they went. Besides, they were all feeling a bit invincible. Very little did anyone get hit, and when they did, Cas was there to stitch them up and send them on their way.

Clara was near the back, talking with Claudia about how new the feeling of shooting a gun was, her adventures with the Doctor, some warehouse Claudia used to work at and a man called Jinx. Everyone walked two by two, Sam and the Doctor in front of the women, Carter and Carlos next, who apparently had some sort of bond. Then Dean and Cas, and in front John and Sherlock.

That made them the first to stumble into camp.

No one had seen it, the three locals had no idea where it was and it was well hidden behind what appeared to be a holographic pile of reddish-brown junk. John wasn't watching as he turned Aand, instead of running into it, he ran through it. Soon the others followed, walking through out of curiosity and the fact that their friend had fallen through.

Too bad they couldn't tell what was on the other side.

Clara stumbled blindly through after Dean had gone, emerging next to Sherlock and John, surrounded. She was silenced and frozen by the weapons, moving only when the Doctor slammed into her. The other five followed not too far behind.

"Stand down." One man in the front said after Claudia had fallen in. "Come with us."

The group silently moved forward in response to the movement of the rifle.

Dean looked as if he would do something idiotic, so Clara walked next to him, elbowing him each time he made for the weapon at his side. As she saw it, they were in no immediate danger, and starting a fight with this many enemy guns pointed at them would only end in all of their deaths. The others seemed to understand that.

They were led to a house and filed into a repurposed bedroom. The mattress had been stacked against the wall and the windows had been bared. The white textured walls had been stripped bare to make the room a suitable prison- one way in, one way out, and nothing to use in escape.

"Hand over your weapons." Clara had half-hoped they'd forgotten about those.

The weapons were collected in a bag like a potato sack and carried off to God-knows-where. The man who seemed to be in the lead whispered to another, who left the room after the guns and swords.

"Sit." The man barked and motioned downward.

The more defiant and stubborn members (Dean in particular) were the last to comply.

A woman was the next to come through- a very masculine woman, but definitely a woman. Her black hair was chopped short and her brown eyes stared them down.

"Look who wandered in." She towered over them as they sat. "Well, you're not in my crew, and we're the only ones stationed here, which makes you filthy Anns and my personal enemies." She stopped just in front of the last person. "And if it isn't Perfect Carlos." She teased. "I have wanted to get my hands on you. You know, I oversaw Cecil's execution. Firing squad. Picked it myself. The whole time he wouldn't stop talking about you. Perfect Carlos with his perfect hair-"

He lost it and jumped on her. In an instant, they were down and guns were drawn. It was sudden, Clara had no time to process as the sound rang through.

"Get down! Stand down!" Luckily, Carlos complied. He got up, still enraged.

"Take him out back." The woman stood and spat. She turned to the other six who still sat in shock. "Don't get comfortable."

Nobody moved.

Had that just happened?

If anyone got hurt, couldn't Cas fix it?

Everything would be alright, right?

~~~~~

"Wrong. No weapons remember?" Sam objected.

Carlos had been carted off to God-knows-where and Dean was itching to get out. To rescue him. Ya. The guards had a lot of confidence in their set-up and had left the room, but were probably waiting outside.

"So what do you think we should do?"

"Might I suggest something?" The Doctor walked over and waved that crappy glowy noise-maker of his.

"What good is that?"

"It's called a sonic screwdriver and it does a lot of good, thank you."

"So how is it going to help us? We don't know how long Carlos has." Claudia seemed more than a little worried.

"I could probably open one of the doors-"

"To the armed guards outside."

"Or pry open a window-"

"To the armed guards that way."

"Or search for some sort of passageway."

"Oh, now that's just ridiculous."

"Actually, it isn't." Carter took over the spread conversation. "A lot of the people in this area were-" he traced a circle over his temple with his forefinger and made the 'crazy' whistle. "It's possible that they built a path out to the backyard."

This place just kept getting weirder.

A search started up pretty quickly for the secret door which may or may not have been there.

"Ya know, we could just have Cas pop out and smite those sons of bitches, right Cas?"

"Dean." He motioned away from the group and they thought about that. "That would not be such a great idea."

"Why not? It can't be that hard."

"I'm- I've been- cut off from heaven." He got quieter with each pause.

"What, so, no more mojo?" Dean kept the hushed tone going.

"When you put it like that..."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I still had a slight connection, but now all links have been severed."

Great. Just great. Exactly what they needed now, a useless angel. What was Dean supposed to tell everyone else?

"Never mind that plan. Keep looking."

They seemed a little curious about that conversation. Eventually, Sherlock noticed some strange carpet fiber positioning or something and found a way to pull up a panel in the corner.

"I'll go first then." Sam volunteered. The round stone tunnel looked a little small. Hopefully the giant wouldn't get stuck or something.

Dean was the last one in. After Clara in front of him motioned that it was safe to come up, he pulled himself out.

It was suspiciously quiet, but no one questioned that. They were thankful, but wary now. As they neared the main area, Sam led them behind a row of bushes.

Carlos wasn't that hard to find. He had been, for lack of a better term, put in display. Ropes attached his wrists to wooden beams on the side of a house and he rested on his knees. Looked like they had already gotten to work. He was pretty bloodied up, but Dean couldn't tell what from. Too bad Cas couldn't heal him anymore.

But that wasn't the problem.

He was surrounded by soldiers.

Before he had a chance to try and make a plan, Carter was moving, Claudia after him. What were they thinking? They couldn't just-

But they did. Carter ducked to the other side and started making a lot of noise. While the fighters were responding to his shouts, Claudia untied Carlos and started leading him behind and around the platform he had been placed on. Their crazy plan almost worked.

Almost. "Hey!" One guy noticed and suddenly half of them turned.

Dean had been overcome by adrenaline and wasn't sure on the details, but he remembered vaulting into the crowd, screaming a battle cry. He remembered finding a gun in his hand, which hurt at the time, and watching one, two, three guys fall while he followed the two along. He remembered Carter screaming something and the time travelers looking nervous and then they were out.

~~~~~

The Doctor had endured war before. He had killed thousands, an entire race. That didn't make this any easier.

This Doctor, he wasn't a killer. At least, he didn't think he was.

That made the lapse in fighting that much nicer.

The team was huddled under a pile of broken building, waiting for the enemy to pass. When the bulk had run off, they half-crawled along the sides of various buildings, still following the tracks that had been there. Hopefully they led to his TARDIS.

Carlos was still injured. Castiel, a force they had relied on, was-- how did Dean phrase it?-- out of juice. Everyone was a lot more afraid.

"I see it." Sam, still in front, whispered.

The tracks were reliable. The TARDIS, and the way home, was there. But there was across a field of gravel and barbed wire.

"Are we just going to make a run for it? Because that's damn near suicidal." John questioned.

"Well I don't really see any other option." Clara was a lot braver that he would have expected her to be.

Silently, Sam made a quick check and then a motion to move out. Splitting up could be disastrous.

No one thought that there might be mines hidden in the ground. Carter was the first to learn.

He had been walking behind Claudia and Carlos. He hadn't noticed until the charge went off. It wasn't much, but enough. He cried in pain and fell to the ground. The Doctor was to far ahead to see any of the damage, but it attracted a lot of attention.

"Keep going!" Carter yelled over the bullets that had come quickly.

Everyone started to run, except Carlos who still couldn't. "I can't. I'll stay with him."

"No! Not both of you!"

"Claudia keep moving! We can't stop."

"Just GO!"

Trying to run cautiously while being shot at was difficult, but somehow, it was possible. Carter and Carlos did a decent job of holding people off, but everyone knew they wouldn't last long.

They were remarkably lucky. One bullet hit it's mark. But this one bullet did it well. It tore through a brown jacket, traveling through crucial organs and out the other side. Claudia would last, but not for long. She fell, and the look on her tear-streaked face meant she knew that too. Bravely she took a weak stance from the ground with a stolen shotgun ready.

"Go. Finish whatever stupid quest you're on."

No one questioned her.

The rest of the run was pretty uneventful.

The TARDIS unlocked easily and the group ran in silently.

The silence continued.

"You've got mail." The oddly cheery voice made seven heads flip around to where the tan duffel bag had appeared on the floor. The Doctor in no way wanted to talk to him.

"I know you're upset, but I'm trying to talk to you." The voice chimed again. He was getting creative, wasn't he?

This time Dean was the one to answer.

"Now listen here you son of a bitch if I ever get my hands on you-"

Evidently the message was being relayed. Dean paused. "He says 'First things first, let's get you all out of here.'"

The TARDIS burst to life lime it had before, but no one was close enough to get hurt.

"'Now to business. I need you all-' Well I for one am done. You are a lunatic. 'Oh, come on, don't you want to hear me out?'"

No one responded.

"'Apparently not. Fine then, I'd much rather explain it all in person. I'll send the coordinates, you should be able to figure it out."

"I'm not going." The Doctor was finished with this twisted game. "So neither are any of you. Hear me? We. Are. Done."

"'Yes, I was afraid one of you might say that. Which is why I took certain precautionary measures.'"

The Doctor was about to ask what these were when a yellow light blinded the room. When he could see again, he saw what wasn't there.

"Clara!"

"Sam!"

"John!"

"Cas!"

The enraged three turned on the computer, finding nothing but coordinates for a Universe Zero and four simple words:

'Come and get us.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one happened quickly. I'm sorry. Should have gone with a nice game of chess.  
> Anyway, for the next chapter I need your help. Anything your brain can come up with, and I do mean anything (well, almost) should be commented and will, most likely, work it's way into the story.


End file.
